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| Stranger; private: Aenarion | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 6 2008, 09:25 PM (363 Views) | |
| Aenarion | Feb 17 2008, 05:59 AM Post #16 |
A Dieing soul
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Aenarion turned when the rustling of changing clothes stopped, and when he heard footsteps. She was in the light, a few strands of the sun glaring down at her like she was an angel. He caught his breath seeing her, his hands clasping in front of his mouth, a tear drawn from his eye, he wiped it away with a smile. "I want you to know that you look.. Radiant." He told her, wanting to find the proper word. He took several steps foreward to appraise her overall. It wasn't the sizing up he had done earlier, or to most people, it was the drinking in of such beauty. Yes, the blue was definetly her color, and the smell she gave off in that dress was probably the best smell in the entire forest -- Not a suprise. "How does it feel?" He asked her, going around to her back, praising it. His wife had worn it only twice. Once at their wedding, and once at his funeral. He let his hands rest on her shoulders, metal against magnificent cloth. It brought back a spark of memory of those days, of how pretty she had looked. He let his hands fall, and he went around to her front again, embracing her, heavily. It was not a bear hug, but it was a hug, a rather big hug. His arms met behind her back. "To be quite honest, you rival her beauty! I could just kiss you all over!" He exclaimed with a friendly grin. He pulled out of the hug briefly to kiss her on the forehead, as he would have to one of his daughters. He turned away, letting a couple more tears fall, oh how he missed his family so very much. If he could have, he would have fought their deaths with all of his might, but they had all been asleep. He remembered looking through the window at his wife, watching her skin blacken, he remembered the terrible rage going through his mind. He remembered the chase of the person that had done it, and the brutal murder of that person. He had torn that person apart, had fed it to wolves, heart and all. He watched the mans look of horror as he skinned him alive. But no, Aenarion didn't let him die to that, he pulled his beating heart out of his body, attached to everything else, and slowly crushed it while wolves ate him. Aenarion had let it all go in that moment, looking at that persons heart. Now what remained was only bitter regret at everything left unsaid, and hope for the future. He had to admit, this, in a way, was adding to that hope. |
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| Osthanto Chetowa | Feb 17 2008, 11:27 PM Post #17 |
Newcomer
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She was not used to feeling such freedom and was for once unsure and actually cared about what people though of the way she dressed. Osthanto watched nervously as Aenarion turned around and her ears flattened against her head when she saw his reaction and heard what he said. Compliments where a strange thing for her to hear and she did not really accept them too easily. Her ever observant gaze picked up the tear that fell from his eyes, and she felt all the more uncertain about herself and the situation. She watched him as he walked around her, examining, and she flinched slightly when she felt his armoured hands placed on her shoulders and felt rather scared to answer his next question, but answered truthfully so as not to be rude. "Its... very comfortable and so light" she said quietly, the tone in her voice betraying the fact that she was unsure of herself at this time. She felt his hands slip from her shoulders and noticed him moving around her again through the corner of her eye. She found herself not able to move, and her eyes widened as she felt him hold her tight and close to him, her arms hanging loosely at her side. Confusion was one thing that she was feeling right now, not sure on how she should be reacting to his behaviour, or what he said next. She turned a slightly brighter colour as he pulled away slightly and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "That’s not true; your wife was angelic; pure of blood I’m sure... “That was all she managed to murmur. She was not sure of if what she had said had come out right, or if it made sense. |
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| Aenarion | Feb 18 2008, 04:14 AM Post #18 |
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A Dieing soul
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"Ah, that is good, comfortable is always my thing, I would walk anywhere with this robe on. Now, though, people get the impression that I am some sort of wizard or something." He said, making a waving gesture, as if to dismiss the idea. He listened to what she said and smiled. "Why are you so uncertain of yourself? You seem like the type of person that would easily dominate all aspects of her life." He noted, it was obvious from her ears. He knew how to communicate as a wolf did, through the gestures of your head, it was a silent language, humans though the way they communicated was through barking. Sure, they used barking for basic communication, but their body did most of the talking. As far as he was concerned, he was at least partially a wolf, or a dog. He took both of his gauntlets off and tossed them into a corner, carelessly. They had seen as much battle as he had, and they remained thick and strong, he didn't need to be careful with them. He stretched his long fingers for a moment before turning around, walking away, and then sitting down. He tossed his head back, and brushed the hair out of his eyes with a pinky finger. "I am definetly in the mood for a strong drink, yourself?" He asked, picking up his diamond flask and drinking from it, he offered it to her. "Ahhh.." he said after he had drunk enough to quench his thirst. He had more, of course, he had learned to brew his own, and he was proud to call it the best he'd ever had. The Horseshoe Tavern and Inn did not come close, when people saw him drinking in that place, they always thought it was their drink. Boy were they wrong, he only drank wine from that place, for he did not know how to make that. He had revealed his drink to only one person before, a man who had killed a family. He had caught him in his house, Aenarion did, and then sat down next to his bed and rambled on about his drink. Then, he killed the man, not because he had heard the recipe, but because of what he had done. |
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| Osthanto Chetowa | Feb 23 2008, 10:03 AM Post #19 |
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Newcomer
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Osthanto heard the words Aenarion spoke, and her ears flattened on her head. She knew that her canine features where a give- away of her feelings to someone who was able to understand the gestures that they created. Her mind was telling her one thing, influencing what it was that she said while the wolf side of her gave out completely different signals. She looked across to where Aenarion had thrown his gauntlets, hearing the echo of the ringing they caused when they hit the floor. She turned her attention away from them and back to Aenarion as he walked away and took a seat next to the cave wall, listening to what he said when he spoke again, and watched as he brought out a flask. It was as unique as the clothing which he wore; like nothing the girl had ever set her eyes on in her life. Osthanto shrugged as a reply, she had not always been fond of alcohol; preferring to rather avoid it as much as possible. Osthanto took a few steps away from where she had been standing, and sat down on her other clothing which had been placed against the cave wall, a few feet away from where Aenarion sat. "What the hell... It'll probably do me some good... “She said, before bringing her hands up her eyes and rubbing them with her fingertips. It had been a long, stressful and; she had to admit, frightening day. |
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| Aenarion | Feb 23 2008, 11:45 AM Post #20 |
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A Dieing soul
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He tossed the flask to her, and relaxed, looking up thoughtfully. "You know, I am a very selfish man, almost everything I do seems to benefit me. I don't do very much for anyone else, is that wrong?" He asked, nibbling on his bottom lip. He had such expensive things, a flask of diamonds, a robe and dress made of the finest quality, and probably worth an entire block in Avalon City. He had weaponry above the quality a king would own. He had countless books that he kept stored away, where he could give them to others. He could probably do well by fighting against Kioku and her forces, but he didn't. He did have friends, a lot of them, whome he saw every now and again. He had so many material possessions, was his soul deprived and poor? By all means, he had experienced enough tragedy in his life time, and would no doubt experience more. He felt like he was missing something in his life, a dire quality to fill it. He wondered, dreadfully, if it was that he was not as giving as he should be. What did he do? Find items of value in his travels, and sold them for money. However, he had the benefite of going into other worlds and fetching things there that would be considered high priced here. He did this when he had money, sometimes he was suprised, sometimes not so much. Aenarion was a strange man, but a simple one pleased by simple things. He had been happy to see someone put on the dress that looked fit for any occasion. The elf had been happy to witness someones birthday, or happy to have escorted someone to their home safely. Back in the day, when he had hunted people for their crimes and brought them in, he had been happy to see relieved faces that the person was no longer on the loose. Anything that helped someone, he smiled about. Why did he feel selfish now? After all these years.. |
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| Osthanto Chetowa | Feb 24 2008, 02:14 PM Post #21 |
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Newcomer
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Osthanto caught the flask which Aenarion threw to her and took a sip of the liquor inside after thanking him, tasting just how strong a brew it was. She cringed slightly. Drinking had never been too favourable with her. Osthanto listened as the Aenarion spoke, looking across at him and wondering on what to say. Everyone lived for themselves first and others later, well that’s what she had always though and how she had always lived. "I've never felt it wrong to live for ones self first, and others later... “She said in a thoughtful manner, looking up at the damp ceiling as she spoke; thinking on the matter.”... You do what you have to survive firstly, worry about others later, and other people do the same, and feel the same..." she leaned forwards after tossing the flask back to Aenarion; her elbows resting on her knees as she massaged her temples with her index and middle fingers, closing her eyes and continuing to think. Osthanto was not sure if she had answered well, but that was her view. Then again she had never really had a person whose well being she needed to think about and so did not know how one reacted or though in those situations. *short, sorry :(* |
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| Aenarion | Feb 25 2008, 06:27 PM Post #22 |
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A Dieing soul
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He caught the flask in his mouth with it turned up, and he finished it. He would never tell her that it was magic. When he let it fall from his lips and into his laps, he lifted his arms up. "Ta da!" He exclaimed, a broad grin on his face. He shook his head, stoppered the flask and tossed it into his travel bag. The sun was just now starting to die down in the day, it was getting dark. He did promise her a meal, a warm one, too. Lucky for him, he didn't tell her it would be delicious and not burnt. He made a fireplace in the middle of the cave, and then sheltered above it so it would not go up, out of the cave, out of the thicket, and then tell orcs their presence. He lit the inside of it with flint and a knife, let the sparks fly, and let magic make them instantly consume the wood with flame. "Errr.. One moment.." He said to her, disappearing for a moment, and then reappearing with a deer in his arms. "How does he do it!?" He exclaimed, smiling before taking to skinning it. "So, will you like yours raw, rare, or medium?" He asked, raking the hair and skin from it. He was at least good at that part of it, it was the whole cooking part he struggled with. He drew a box from a pouch in the robe, and put it to the side of the fire with care, and then lifted the lid from it. It was spice and salt, to be sure, probably some of the best. It was even worse when it still did not make his cooking good tasting. "Do you like deer skin or should I just get rid of it?" He asked her, laying it on the ground meat up. The rest of the skinned deer, though, he dehoofed, dehorned, took off the head and legs, and then started in on the belly, putting what looked good on the fire. That was another problem with his cooking, he had no idea what was good. See, he knew the anatomy of a human, and knew what parts of a chicken tasted good, but not the deer. He had heard the small tail was boney, but good, he had also heard the legs make for good meat as well. "What about the legs? The eyes?" He asked, putting each piece to the side. Of course it was bloody, but for some reason the blood did not get on his robe at all. Wether or not it was from magic, the material, or simply skill with handling blood, it was hard to tell. |
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